


The One Who Had Loved Her The Most

by daenyara



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Battle of Winterfell, F/M, Game of Thrones Spoilers, game of thrones s8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-06 01:54:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18841255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daenyara/pseuds/daenyara
Summary: it’s the night before the Army of the Dead arrives and they spend it side by side.





	The One Who Had Loved Her The Most

[Originally posted by ohsansas](https://tmblr.co/ZHw8Ul2hu6BCQ)

“Are you afraid?” asks Sansa, as she hands him a bowl of scorching hot soup. **  
**

The winter wind blows on what may be their last night in this world, and the air is filled with smoke and the silent cries of the dead. The dead, who are getting closer, marching to destroy the world and end everything in fire and ice.

Theon chuckles, the flames of the torches dancing in his eyes. “  _I always am._ ”

He’s telling the truth. When the Lord of Winterfell came to the Iron Islands to take him away, he was scared. And then, he never stopped being scared.

Scared of not knowing who he was ⎼  _Greyjoy or Stark, loyal to a father who despised him or to the one who raised him with love and care?_

Scared of closing his eyes and seeing, again and again, all the things he had done.

Scared of being hurt, because he was already too broken to endure it.

Scared of saying  _sorry…_

He stares into her eyes, the green waves of the ocean into the bright blue of the clear northern sky, and his whole body trembles as he speaks.

“Sansa, I…” His voice dies out like a small flame in a storm.

How can he tell her? How can words be harsh enough to describe his guilt? He wants to tell her that he hasn’t forgotten, that he never will, and that every single day he wishes he had died instead of her family ⎼  _their_  family. 

But he also wants to tell her that if the gods will grant him life beyond this fight, he will spend the rest of his days fighting for her, trying to make up for his betrayal.

Yes, Theon Greyjoy is afraid as he awaits for the Long Night to come. Yet it’s not the Great War that terrifies him the most… It is dying without telling Sansa he loves her with every fibre of his being and that with her at his side he finally feels brave.

“I do not know what this fight will bring,” he starts, and she’s already about to interrupt him.

She doesn’t wanna face the truth, not yet. For now, she’ll just enjoy these final hours, thinking about the next time they will meet again. But he stops her by squeezing her hand, softly.

“If I don’t see the light of the next dawn, Lady Sansa, I want you to know that every swing of my sword has been for you, and for Winterfell.” He smiles, and even the dim light makes his tears gleam on his cheekbones. “I can’t take back what I did to your family, but I can fight for your home.”

Sansa smiles back, but sobs shake her chest. “ _Our_  home.”

This is how they choose to spend their last certain breaths: holding on to one another, trying to catch memories and ghosts. Their fingers remain intertwined the whole time, while they think about their home, their family, their childhood, their love.

Sansa’s auburn hair flutter in the cold, embroidered with thousands of silvery snowflakes. 

It doesn’t matter what happens. One day, they’ll be together, in this world or another.


End file.
